


The sun will always shine

by det395



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Gay Bar, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25003318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/det395/pseuds/det395
Summary: Phil goes to a gay bar for the first time with his university housemates
Relationships: Phil Lester/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	The sun will always shine

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Tarredion and Natasha for some great ideas for this fic, and to Aliss for reading it over!!

“Phil. Phil.”

His own name registers in his ears but he doesn’t react until something grabs his wrist.

“You’re gonna make your hair all greasy. Stop messing with it, it looks good,” Tessa says. 

She smiles kindly up at him. Usually that’s comforting, but he feels a prickle of frustration now. He doesn’t need to be told how to act; he’s an adult for god's sake.

“It’s just the… the wind,” he says, but as he does someone screams rather loudly behind him. Or maybe it was a laugh. Drunk people are loud.

“What?” Tessa asks. Phil shakes his head. His throat is already hurting from talking so loud.

And he’s not even inside the club yet. London is busy and his buzz has worn off and he’s feeling completely out of place. 

Pop music flows out of the open windows. A rainbow flag hangs down over the entrance. The people around him all look so different and he feels guilty that his first thought is to judge and question when he just wants to know where he fits in. Every thought that flows through his mind reminds him how much he doesn’t understand about being queer.

Or looking queer. He sticks out like a sore thumb, a sore nerdy thumb, with his plaid shirt and skinny jeans and hair that feels heavy enough to weigh him down. 

He thought he wanted to stand out at university, walk into a room like “Pow! I’m Phil!” and force himself to be someone. Now, here, in the one place he should belong, he wants to crawl into that manhole on the road and become one with the Sewer People. Who he’s pretty sure exist. London is scary.

That’s a joke he could make to the friends Tessa and Fiona have made in line but the pounding noise deters him. All of his jokes have been ruined by people saying “What? Speak up!” and it only gets worse the closer he gets to the entrance. Now he’s just the weird, tall guy who apparently messes with his hair a noticeable amount and doesn’t talk to anyone.

A huge group of people in front of them are let in past the bouncer. His entrance into his first gay club ever is imminent.

He raises his hand instinctively to mess with his fringe but he stops himself midway and puts a couple of fingers in his pocket instead, wrist facing outward.

There’s no turning back now. This is his ultimate moment, the entire reason for this road trip with his housemates. Phil, being out and proud and talking to boys that might like him back.

Terrifying. Terrifying enough that it feels a little hard to breathe. He imagines the London pollution flowing straight in his lungs and clogging his airway. Realistically, he knows this just happens to him sometimes and the big city is oppressive and scary to him mentally, not physically.

Fiona kisses Tessa one last time and they shuffle closer. Is he a bad friend for feeling envious? What he wouldn’t do to have a person like that, someone who makes every space feel safe. 

Phil pulls out his ID with trembling fingers and steps forward.

“Aren’t you excited, Phil?” Fiona asks, her dimples popping out. “We finally made it!”

“I need a drink,” Phil says and they laugh and pull him inside by his wrists. He’s going to be an awkward third-wheel for the rest of the night, isn’t he?

All of his senses are immediately overcome by the unbelievable atmosphere, like he’s just entered a new world. Flashing lights and the smell of sweat and smoke hitting his eyes and so, so many different people. He takes his time doing coat-check and taking money out of an ATM before he settles with the idea that he’s going to be clubbing for the rest of the night instead of laying in bed. 

And he’s an adult and he can do it. This is not going to be a wasted experience. He lets himself be dragged to a bar where he gets a hand on the sticky counter to ask for a beer.

He lets himself look around him now. There’s someone next to him with a small tank top that doesn’t hide much, least of all his bulging pecs. The man leans forward and sucks on a bright red drink through a swirly straw. 

Phil taps his shoulder. “Excuse me. What are you drinking?” he yells.

The man looks at him over his shoulder and leans in enough that Phil sees the sweat on his temple. “Tequila sunrise?”

“Thanks.” 

When the bartender sets his beer in front of Phil, he leans forward and orders a tequila sunrise as well. He’s sick of drinking beer at house parties. Who says he needs to torture himself with disgusting fermentation juice just because it seems more manly? That isn’t who he’s going to be. The new Phil doesn’t obsess over hangups on his own lack of masculinity, doesn’t strive to be a carbon copy of his brother. 

Except the beer costs an exorbitant amount and he’s already a month over his parents’ budget so as much as he wants to be dramatic and leave it behind, he picks it up and takes the tequila sunrise in the other hand.

Tessa and Fiona are laughing at his choice of drinks as they pull him towards Phil’s worst nightmare: the dance floor. Phil desperately chugs at the beer, which sloshes over his hand as he squeezes between the crowd.

They find a little space near the wall. Phil sways up and down and back and forth as ‘Fergalicious’ blasts and he tries to figure out what exactly the beat of the song is. A few songs play and he sings the lyrics he knows with Tessa and Fiona and pretends to have fun with the hope that it will actually happen soon. 

Someone leans in close to him and, before he can move out of their way, they start talking to him.

“What a combination to double fist there,” someone says. It’s a rather regular-looking guy with ginger hair and a short beard. His eyes look kind and he’s giving Phil all of his attention and Phil instantly feels the pressure to not miss this opportunity.

“I like it all, couldn’t choose,” Phil says, making a show of sticking the straw in his mouth while he sips the beer.

“Is that a bi joke?” 

Phil nods. It’s a lie, but it seems harmless enough to act a bit cooler than he is.

“Cool,” the guy nods appreciatively and Phil feels a burn of something satisfying in his gut. He can do this. He can flirt with a cute guy who is, judging by the place they’re at, likely also gay in some way.

“I’m Phil,” he says.

“Jack. You been here before?”

“Not this bar, specifically,” Phil says quickly. Maybe he should be worried about how easy it is to lie these days, but he doesn’t want to admit how inexperienced he really is. He gulps back some of his cocktails and hopes for liquid courage to come.

“I suppose this calls for a welcome.” Jack leans in so close that Phil can feel his breath on his ear. “Here you’ll find the most overpriced cocktails in all of gay London along with the sweatiest muscle men in the city.”

“My favourite smells,” Phil blurts out. 

Jack gives him a funny look—god, why does he have to say the weirdest stuff?—but then Jack laughs rather hard and Phil breathes out in relief.

“Freaky,” Jack says.

“That’s me,” Phil mutters. He doesn’t really know if that’s him, though he tries to imagine it as he scrolls through porn late at night.

“What?” Jack calls louder. Phil shakes his head and drinks more beer.

They sway and bounce to the music. Phil sees Tessa and Fiona snogging out of the corner of his eye, so he stays angled toward Jack and desperately thinks of something witty to say. Then, Jack reaches out to him.

He grabs the cup of beer, which Phil suddenly realizes is empty. How fast had he been drinking?

“Let me get this out of your hand,” Jack says, setting it on a ledge by the wall. Then, Jack slides a hand around the back of Phil’s neck and pulls him closer. Phil puts a hesitant hand on his hip. 

He begins to chug his cocktail. He usually keeps a drink in his hand as a crutch but now he wants both of his hands free. His heart is picking up speed and his mind feels like it’s turning to jelly.

“Whoa, you're really downing it there,” Jack says. He isn’t yelling as loud now that he’s so close to Phil’s ear.

“I want it out of my hand,” Phil says and places it next to the other cup. He’s suddenly grateful that the darkness hides the heat lighting up his cheeks. Jack smiles at him. Phil can’t remember enjoying attention like this so much before. There’s not much left to wonder about Jack’s intentions, and Phil can barely believe it. 

Maybe Phil does belong here. No one else is judging him. As a matter-of-fact, people have been really nice and Phil is the only one who is judging himself.

Jack gets both of his hands on the back of Phil’s neck and sways back and forth. Phil's dizzy mind feels similar but he likes it. It’s a lot easier to dance against a person it turns out, he focuses on pressing into Jack’s warm body and all but forgets there’s anyone else around him. This really is his life, he can do this. Before he knows it, Jack is moving in close to him and there’s a scratchy beard against his mouth with wet lips meeting his.

Lips attached to a man. In an actual sexual context. The pathetic experimentation Phil has experienced doesn’t compare to this, nothing compares to this feeling. After so many fantasies throughout his life, so much shame and fear and curiosity and yearning, here he is. And he feels proud, he does. He came here, he didn’t chicken out, and now he gets to kiss a cute guy, the experience he never got to have as a closeted teen. It doesn’t feel too late, it feels just right.

He revels in the tongue licking into his mouth as his head pounds in time with the music. It might be objectively gross, but he feels his body react in a way that only feels natural.

They kiss for a couple of songs, and then Jack leaves and when they find each other after the drag show, they kiss some more and Phil ruts against him shamelessly until there’s a last-call for drinks. He bounces around with Fiona and Tessa to 'Mr. Brightside' and looks around at the people surrounding him whenever the lights turn on. Some people look like him, many don’t, and he still likes it here a lot. One day he wants to be that open, even to his home town.

He never thought he’d be the kind of person to pout leaving a club, but as he climbs in a taxi with Fiona and Tessa, hiccuping with his head pressed against the cold window, he knows this is a night he won’t forget. They ask the driver to go through the McDonald’s drive-thru and then giggle into the wee hours of the night in their tiny hotel room. 

Phil even sets up a dating app with their drunken help. This is who he is, he’s gay and it’s great and he’s happy.

As he watches Fiona and Tessa cuddle up together he can feel his own yearning strongly. He wants a person like that. And he hopes he finds a good one someday.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr link!](https://det395.tumblr.com/post/622382535422410752/the-sun-will-always-shine)


End file.
